


The Barrier

by kimmyjarl



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: M/M, Rape, Sexual Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimmyjarl/pseuds/kimmyjarl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had nothing to lose after all. Vegeta hated me. Even after Buu, he still hated me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I sat down in the brown, dry grass and sighed. “Hey, Vegeta, that was a great spar.” Not that Vegeta had seemed to enjoy himself. If he didn’t enjoy scowling and cursing, that was. All that shit coming out of his mouth. Now he just sat there, face set in a mask of scorn and disgust.

“Hey, Vegeta, I _said_ , it was a great spar.” I was just repeating myself out of spite. Had nothing to lose after all. Vegeta hated me; even after Buu, he still hated me. “But of course, I couldn’t use all my strength. Had to hold back.” Disguised as teasing. Vegeta glared. I felt like rubbing it in. Dirt in the wound. Whatever.

“Fuck you, Kakarott.” The man finally spoke. Dark and raspy, his voice held a richness that gave his every utterance a sort of splendour that didn’t belong there. _Damn you, Vegeta_.

In a rush, he stood up, his crouch level with my face. Blasted impulse. Made me reach out and grab the hem of his trousers, of his tight spandex pants. They were so tight after all, that I could see the contours of his sex through the fabric. Always could. I just pulled the pants down, drew them down like nothing. Like nothing mattered anymore.

His bare skin was shocking, frankly. Just to have it up close, to see him with the tight trousers below his knees, to see his hips bare and his heavy manhood revealed, nothing between him and the tepid air.

I didn’t think. I glanced up at him and I saw the anger there, and I got scared. He stared down at me with a look on his face that I had never seen before. I had thought I knew the depth of his loathing, but I was wrong. He had been… restrained, really. Such outrage, now on his face. Such hate just for me. And frankly, it was no good, it was nothing I wanted to see. _I don’t want this hate, Vegeta._

I pulled him down to me, yanking him, my hands on the back of his knees. He was down with me, with _me_ , and I stared straight into his face, his body trapped beneath me.

“What the HELL are you doing, Kakarott?” That’s what he said, but his face was only inches from me, and I could see the darkness in his eyes, staring back at me. Like he could feel it too.

 _I want to see you bleed, Vegeta. I want to feel your face under my fist as I hit you with everything I have._

I did it then, hit him. Not like sparring, not even like fighting. This was just my fist on him, my fist on him, my fist on him. Endlessly, it felt.

I didn’t feel free, I didn’t feel good. I felt my heart pounding in my head and a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt every muscle in my body. I felt the muscles on my stomach, on my back and my shoulders, the muscles on my legs and on my arms. All working together as I hit him.

He put his hands up, but I struck them down, I pinned his wrist with my knee, I hit him on his chest, slammed my fists down on his chest, and I think he might have screamed then, but I can’t say for certain. Mostly, he was silent.

I stopped then, when he stopped struggling. Or perhaps he had stopped struggling long before that. I was straddling his waist, and he twisted on the ground, twisted, not to get away from me, but rather to face another direction. His arms was up around his head, and he tried to turn around, to roll to his stomach, as if all he wanted to do was to press his face against the ground and dig his fingers into the yielding soil. _Hey, Vegeta. Hey, hey…_

“Hey…” I moved lower, sitting on his thighs so I could lift him, my hands on his back, and press him against my chest. His arms hung limply, and I could feel his breath through the thickness of my clothes. I pressed him closer. Us, close together. My want, caught between us. _I can’t explain it, Vegeta._

I pushed my hips forward, felt my hardness press against him. Felt it rub against the rough fabric of my pants.

“N…no.”

 _You say this, Vegeta, but I don’t think you’re talking to me. Your voice is foggy and far away. You push against me, but it’s like you’re not really trying, and your eyes are closed, not in pain, but more like you’re not really here. More like you’re not really awake._

My hands. Under his sweater. On his back, touching his shoulders, kneading the muscle there, moving up and down the warmth of his skin. On his flanks, my thumbs tracing the muscles on his stomach, the muscles on his chest. Up and down, restlessly touching, gliding, caressing. I touched him with my mouth, left wet marks on his throat and pressed my tongue against his cheek.

 _Oh, I_ _taste_ _you, Vegeta._

I took away his tight sweater, peeled it off him, and he was on his back, under me, me on _him_ , and for a long time I don’t think I breathed; I just held him.

One breath.

I lifted myself on my hands and my knees, and reached inside my trousers, pushed them out of the way. One hand went around myself, stroking. I let go, just for a moment, to bring the hand up to my mouth, saliva pooling the palm. Brought it down again.

“Hn…aaah!” The muscles in my thighs trembled, my fingers tightened, moved faster, harder… I gasped, gasped, and tears were trickling down my face.

My other hand reached for Vegeta, stroking his front. As I touched him, I could feel a jolt go through his body. His eyes sprang open.

“Wha-!” He lashed out, but I was faster. _I’m faster then you, Vegeta._ I caught his arms and lifted him and slammed him into the ground, his head bounced against the ground. He fought, but blindly, completely naked, with blood running from his nose.

I spun him around, sure to leave bruises, and he caught himself, fingers into the earth. _Isn’t this what you wanted, Vegeta?_ I moved lower, holding him there, as I pushed a knee between his legs, both my knees between his legs.

“Hhun.” I groaned, I couldn’t help it. I wanted… wanted… something. I couldn’t say, but I’ve had dreams about this.

Hands on his hips, and it was all a matter of lifting him up and pushing forward.

Warm. Hot. Vegeta. I laid down like this. It was unbelievable, really. I was on him, the whole of me, my lips touching his neck, his back against my chest and my stomach, the back of his thighs against the front of mine, and higher, where I was naked, the unprotected skin on the front of my hips lay snugly against the skin of his buttocks. It was soft. My erection was deep inside of him, filling him up, taking up any room he had to give.

“Hah.” I pressed my hips forward, even tighter, even further, and gritted my teeth, and lost control of my breathing. “Hah.” An ache in my chest. I rocked against him, once. Pulled away a little, abruptly jerked back. Close to something. I wept. I drew back, lifted my hips off his body, and my length glided out almost completely. Slowly, thickly, I lowered myself again, feeling every part of it. “Hah.”

Something broke, I think. I took a tight hold, held him under his arms and around his shoulders. _I have you, Vegeta._ My sweat was _burning_ me, my muscles were _quivering,_ and I began to thrust against him, back and forth, in and out. Harder, harder, using the strength of my whole body to come back on him. I pounded him repeatedly, self-servingly, much like I had done earlier with my fists. _You can’t get away, Vegeta._

Closer. Vegeta. _Closer. I want to hold you in my arms so tight. I want you to hold me just as tight. I want to kiss you on your mouth and feel you kiss me back._

Now.

Never.

Where did those thoughts come from?

He made a sound. Like pain.

 _I… No… Be still, Vegeta._ _Just… just… I…_

This was not good. I was not happy.

One last thrust, deep as I could go. Every muscle in my body stiffened and strained. Spasmodically, my fingers dug into his flesh.

It was like letting go. I let go.

A call poured out of me. A simple call. _See me, Vegeta. Don’t hate me, Vegeta._

I heard an answer. Vegeta, in my head, echoing my call.

Oh. He saw me, always had. From the day he’d met me, I had been in his thoughts. I was his challenge, his clash, his complement, his balance in the world. He argued with me, fought me, and cursed me. I amused him and infuriated him.

And he never really hated me.

For a moment, I felt peace. A restful heaviness had settled over my limbs, and I just lay there, breathing heavily. My eyes were closed, and my cheek rested on the soft slope where his neck met his shoulder.

I could hear the beating of his heart.

I raised my head. Reluctantly. It would have been nice to stay there a bit longer. Hands on the dry grass, I arched my upper body away from him. Looking down, I watched my member slowly slide out of him; saw the traces of white that followed. Unreal. But it was happening. This was how it was. He was laying there, on his stomach, his legs apart. Marks of my fingers stark on his shoulders.

Moving so I was sitting next to him, I tentatively reached out. Placed my hand flat on the middle of his back. No reaction.

“V-vegeta?” I turned him over, onto his back. Blood. Smeared all over him. His teeth were dark with it, thick tendrils running down the sides of his mouth. Behind half-closed lids, his eyes glimmered, stared fixedly at something that I couldn’t see.

I lifted him up, as gently as I could. Held him in my arms and felt him take a slow, uneven breath. I rocked back and forth, rocked us both back and forth.

 _Vegeta…_

“I’ll make it right, Vegeta,” I said against his hair, my voice low and choked. When did I ever stop weeping? “I’ll make it right.”


	2. Chapter 2

I dressed him. I held his hand, threaded it through the sleeve, and pulled the tight sweater over his head. I fetched his trousers. I had to lift him, one arm around his back, as I drew them all the way up. His boots. Found them.

I hauled him up, his feet on the ground. His head rolled to the side, and I tightened the grip around his back. I tried to transfer the weight to his legs, but his knees kept bending.

 _Stand, Vegeta. Stand._

I looked at his profile. His eyes were closed, and there was blood between his lips, staining my sleeve. My hand moved to his neck, and I pressed his face against my shoulder.

 _Hide your face, Vegeta._

There was a stillness inside me, a white blanket of nothing. I could feel his pulse under my hand. I stared straight ahead, watched the autumn sky, and counted _one, two, three, four, five, six, seven._ The sky was empty; nothing moved except his heartbeat under my hand.

My arms tightened around him. He was fighting me. No. He thrashed and jerked, and his back was rigid and stiff. I soothed, soothed with my hands, but his muscles were rock hard, resisting, refusing. He wouldn’t relax.

“Vegeta… stop.” _Stop…._

I wavered, unstable on my feet. Bright spots before my eyes. I couldn’t… couldn’t… I was on my knees, and everything was white, bright and silent. I laid on the ground, and the sky was spinning above me. The grass under my cheek was the only thing standing still.

A moan. A sound of pain, drifting through the white.

 _Vegeta…_

I got to my knees, clutching the grass, squinting against the dizziness. Vegeta was on his back, I could barely see him. There was something wrong with my eyes. White. I’m sure my face was ashen.

“Vegeta.” My hand fumbled over his arm, landing on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Forgot to breath out. Couldn’t… Next my face was pressed to his chest. A blur of blue.

A blur….

The smell of battle roused me. Blood. Iron thick in my nose. Focus. I needed to focus. What was this? What was I doing? I needed to… needed….

A thought surfaced, an image that made the land stop spinning and the sky to come to a perfect standstill. There was a senzu in my boot. Inside a little purse, tucked into the shaft of my boot, laid a senzu.

The white was lifting, and slowly my brain started working again. One at a time, the thoughts returned from their hiding places. They were cold enough to burn, like icy drops running down my mind.

I could see him now. His hands was twitching, a spasm going through his body. I might have hurt his skull. That would explain it.

I held the senzu against his lips, while my other hand bent open his jaw. It was slippery. I shifted my grip, pressed my thumb against his teeth. My fingers went into his mouth, and I pushed the bean as far as I could reach. I closed his mouth, stroked his cheeks. _Swallow, Vegeta._ I swallowed myself, as if to show him what to do.

He had bitten his tongue. The observation was cold and distant. So that was where all the blood was coming from. He was bleeding, but not profusely. The wound couldn’t be very deep. He coughed, and I put a hand over his mouth. _No. Swallow._

He did. I could sense the bean go down, I could sense the difference in his body, the steadying of energy. I straightened my back, put my hands on my knees. A moment of waiting, before he started to heal.

It hit me then, the whole of it, like I was doused with chilly water. I had… what I had done… When I had pulled him down. When he was on his stomach. When he was on his stomach and I was between his legs. He had… when I had turned him over… And I had held him… and said that I would make it right. He had bitten his tongue, and I had said that I would make it right.

Vegeta took a breath. A slow, controlled breath. He was waking up.

He would see me.

 _No! No no no no no no. Don’t wake up!_

He couldn’t wake up yet; he couldn’t wake up and see that it wasn’t right. I had turned him over, and I had said that I would… but it wasn’t right, nothing was right.

If I could have taken the senzu back, I would. But his eyes were already opening. He started to lift his head off the ground. His mouth formed a silent snarl, as if on the brink of consciousness. He was still making himself ready to fight.

No!

I was on him, holding him to the ground. I pushed his head back down, the heel of my hand against the bridge of his nose. I felt his eye-lashes against my palm.

 _Wait, just wait. Please. Please, Vegeta, please._

His fingers closed over my wrist, an iron grip that sent shock down my spine. He pulled my hand aside. Face to face, we stared at each other. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t look away.

“Ka… ka… rott.” His voice was deep and thick. It made the air tremble.

“No…” I made an attempt to free my wrist, but his arm hardly budged. _No…._

“What was that?” A whisper – a hiss. “What did you say to me, Kakarott?” His eyes had me caught. They had me paralysed with a numbing sense of finality.

“I… please, Vegeta. Please…”

 _“Please?”_ His face was a snarling mask, the eyes slits of murderous rage. With a scream, he transformed. His aura slammed into me, a wall of power that jarred every muscle in my body. “Don’t tell me ‘please’!” He yelled the words with bared teeth, lines of lightening crawling over his face.

“I’m s-”

His forehead slammed into my nose. I saw sparks. He hit me on my side, several short jabs on the exact same spot. I grunted, and transformed as well, just so I could withstand the crushing power of his blows. I tried for the third level, but I couldn’t reach it. The will wasn’t there. I didn’t want to win. I didn’t want any of this.

Vegeta was fighting on a wave of fury. I could feel it welling out of his mind, could taste it, like a suffocating mist in the air. He threw me around, on the peak of the wave, and I was drowning, with his hand around my throat. My knee hit his stomach, and I twisted, struggling for air.

I was sinking. I tore his hand from my windpipe, and still I was sinking. Saw his fist rushing towards me, dodged, turned, and again I was on top of him. He hissed… and his head jerked to the side as I hit him. I hit him again, and the ground shook with the power.

 _Please, Vegeta. Please… I don’t want this._

I twined my arms around him. He was nearly impossible to hold, fighting, struggling, twisting in my grip. He screamed his rage; my ears were full of it. And underneath the rage I heard another voice speaking to me, quietly, whispering feelings of betrayal. _How could you,_ it said. _How could you?_

How could I?

I answered in the only way I know how: _I did what I did, Vegeta. I followed my heart._

It was so sad, so sad. My throat ached with sorrow.

The waters of his mind seemed to hesitate. The anger didn’t disappear, but it stilled, became more distant, and the fight left his body. He laid still under my weight. I blinked against his hair, my arms still squeezing him tightly.

“Vegeta…?”

“Get off me.” A terse commend.

I raised my head and looked at him. His expression was hard, and he stared past me, waiting. My nose throbbed from when he had hit me. I sniffled, and saw a drop of blood landing on his cheekbone. It got me moving, that drop of blood. My arms loosened, and I backed away from him, letting go of the Super Saiyan form.

He wiped his cheek with the tip of his fingers. Without hurry, and without looking at me, he climbed to his feet. His back was turned to me when he spoke.

“Well. Are you proud of yourself, poor Kakarott?”

“No.” And no, and no, and no.

Had that been pity in his voice?

I stood up, legs unsteady. “I’m sorry,” I said in a rush.

“I know.” He turned around, and I thought I saw a hint of a smirk touch his face. “I know.”

“I wish, more then anything-”

He kicked me. Crouching low, his foot flew out and collided with the side of my knee. I heard a crunching sound. It was the kind of kick that we had always avoided when we sparred. I went down with a yell.

“Uhh…” I sat on the ground, leaning over my leg. Cold sweat broke out all over my body.

“Listen to me.”

I straightened, forcing the injury to the edge of my consciousness. Vegeta had powered down, his hair was black again. He took one step closer. I stared at his boot, at the blue fabric of his trousers. Blue and white. I had been the one who had clothed him.

I didn’t want to listen, but I heard him anyway.

“Whatever feelings… whatever is in your _heart…_ it means nothing anymore. Nothing. Do you understand?”

I nodded, made myself talk. “Yes.” I understood. _I did what I did. And I can not undo it._

There was nothing else to say. I looked up at him and he looked back.

Then… he was gone.


End file.
